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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27469543">Take Heed</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/rolypoly_panda/pseuds/rolypoly_panda'>rolypoly_panda</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Umbrella Academy (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Blood and Injury, Gen, Hurt Number Five | The Boy, Hurt/Comfort, Major Character Injury, Number Five | The Boy Whump, Protective Klaus Hargreeves, Protective Number Five | The Boy, Stabbing, Whump, cuz like idk what constitutes as heavy vs regular vs light angst, i think just regular angst, im really feeling it mr krabs</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 18:48:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,733</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27469543</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/rolypoly_panda/pseuds/rolypoly_panda</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Klaus shouldn't have taken the drugs. And he shouldn't have let himself get kicked out of the club. But most of all, he <i>really</i> shouldn't have let Five come and pick him up.</p>
<p>It was stupid. <i>He</i> was stupid.</p>
<p>Because if Five dies from his mistakes, he'll never be able to forgive himself. Not again. Not for another brother's death...</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Number Five | The Boy &amp; Klaus Hargreeves</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>199</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Take Heed</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>All copyright content doesn't belong to me. All characters belong to Gerard Way and Netflix.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Klaus </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>hadn’t expected Five to show up. Diego or Luther were more likely candidates to retrieve his sorry ass from where the bouncer had kicked him out and, in all truth, Klaus had </span>
  <em>
    <span>hoped</span>
  </em>
  <span> they would show up. Hell, he’d even take Allison, or Vanya.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>See, because </span>
  <em>
    <span>they</span>
  </em>
  <span> were predictable.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But Five?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Klaus wasn’t sure </span>
  <em>
    <span>what</span>
  </em>
  <span> Five would do. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Because Diego would grumble something like, “goddamnit man, </span>
  <em>
    <span>again?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” as he hauled Klaus to his car. And Luther would try to school him, try to better him like he had always done in the past. Allison may complain, but Vanya would be silent, he knew.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But </span>
  <em>
    <span>Five?</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Well, Klaus figured he was about to find out just what Five would do...</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He squinted up at his brother, ignoring the flare of his headache at the movement. Five’s expression was obscured, the street light behind him washing him entirely in backlit shadow. With his hands in his pockets and his shoulders loose, Klaus figured he was, at least, neutral. But there was an impatience to his posture, a tightness to his jaw that left Klaus tense, waiting for the insults, the frustration, the anger that he always seemed to harness.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Above him, Five sighed. His head cocked to the left.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Heyo, Five-o.” Klaus coughed out a laugh. His head was spinning, his limbs fuzzy from the alcohol, sight blurring over thanks to...</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Something. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He couldn’t remember what the guy at the bar had given him. Klaus thought he had said it was LSD, but seeing as how he wasn’t tripping off his </span>
  <em>
    <span>shit</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he must have remembered wrong. It was a pity the bouncer had kicked him out before he could ask the guy.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Klaus continued, swallowing suspiciously vomit-tasting spit, “Wh-What’s up, bud?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I could ask you the same question.” Five said, voice calm.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Klaus squirmed in his discomfort. “I, uh... Could--Are you giving me a ride home?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Five stared down at him. At a click of his tongue, he said, “Yep,” He nudged his head to the right, towards the mouth of the alley. “All right, come on. Let’s go.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He didn’t move until Klaus had his hands back behind him, fumbling against the brick wall to heave himself up off the asphalt. His jeans were soaked through from city runoff and puddles last night’s rain, though Klaus’ legs were strangely numbed to it. Oddly, his feet felt </span>
  <em>
    <span>swollen</span>
  </em>
  <span>, unable to hold his weight comfortably. He squinted down at his wobbling legs, then back to Five.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Five, who was now glaring up at him, his brows pinched and lips downturned tightly in his typical, permanent-seeming scowl. It were as if he was ready to pass judgement on Klaus already. Though, admittedly, Klaus didn’t find that surprising.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>At Klaus’ silence, Five grumbled, “What are you doing, Klaus...?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Klaus giggled out, “Uh, hey, so...Look, I don’t know </span>
  <em>
    <span>what</span>
  </em>
  <span> that guy in there gave me, but it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>good </span>
  </em>
  <span>because...I can’t feel my legs.”  He slapped his thigh with one hand. His palm tingled, but his legs stayed muted to the sensation.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Shi--” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Five cut himself off with a hiss through his teeth. He turned away, squinting to the street. Few cars passed by, splashing in the puddles, the ambiance of the city reverberating down the alley. Around them, the bass of the club’s music thrummed off the walls. It was loud, but not as loud as Five’s curse as he turned back to Klaus. His face was contorted with anger. “Can you walk?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>no...” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Klaus flashed a faux-smile at Five. “Sorry, buckaroo.” He turned to the opening of the alleyway, nudging at it with his chin. “Can’t you, like...Wh-Where’s the car? Where did you park the car? Can’t you just--”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>drive</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Klaus.” Five snapped. "I walked."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Klaus’ stomach squeezed. He licked his lips, then again, tongue catching on the chapped divots. After a beat, he breathed out, “...Well that sucks.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Five scoffed. “Look, </span>
  <em>
    <span>you idiot</span>
  </em>
  <span>, if we--”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They flipped around, facing the alleyway’s front. Obscured in the dark, a man strode up to them, keeping his hands out and open to his sides.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The man called, “Hey, you two okay?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Five shoulders straightened. He didn’t make to answer, and Klaus didn’t blame him. It was </span>
  <em>
    <span>uncomfortably </span>
  </em>
  <span>fishy, seeing some weird-ass guy careening towards them at god-knew what time.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As he got closer, Klaus could make out the jut of his cheekbones, the veins of his neck. The man looked sickly.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I-I just want to help, that’s all.” he said, his voice light and even.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Five spat, “We don’t need it.” His hands were out of his shorts’ pockets, pulled into fists at his sides.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Predictably enough, the man didn’t listen, rearing up close to them. “Look, I just want to help, okay?” His whole body was vibrating with tremors, a sweat broken across his skin despite the chill of approaching winter. He continued hastily, “I-I just want to--”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Piss off.” Five bit.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The man went slack.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He mumbled, “The fuck you say to me?” His demeanor shifted. A coldness dulled his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Five tensed at Klaus’ side. “I said take your pity party and shove it up your ass. We don’t have any drugs. So piss off.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ah, so Five figured the man was an addict as well. Judging by his gaunt body, his spindly limbs, Klaus figured the man’s choice would be heroin. Though, perhaps that was a bit cliché. Maybe he was into cocaine, or a general opioid, or maybe--</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Look, </span>
  <em>
    <span>kid</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I don’t know who the </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck--!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>The man rushed Five. He dug through his jacket, ripping out a knife.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Klaus’ heart kicked up into his throat. He stumbled back against the brick.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Five surged forward. The exchange was quick, neat, done in two hits as the heel of Five’s hand rammed into the man’s throat and his knee went to the bastard’s groin, knocking the wind out of him. He doubled over, the flimsy switch blade clattering to the asphalt.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Jesusfuckingchrist</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” the man wheezed. He had one hand squeezed to his jeans, the other at his throat.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ignoring him, Five grabbed Klaus by the arm. With a surprising amount of strength for a thirteen-year-old, Five hauled him upright and began half-guiding, half-carrying Klaus towards the main road. “Come on, just-- </span>
  <em>
    <span>Just walk</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Klaus.” But Klaus couldn’t get his legs to work, couldn’t get his vision to stop teetering and almost sending him heels-over-head to the pavement.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Footsteps rushed behind them.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Five shoved Klaus before he could react.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Klaus collided unceremoniously with the road, the breath smacked from his lungs and his bare shoulder scraping over the asphalt as he collapsed under the weight of Five’s push. He scrabbled to get his body under control, but his head pounded, his sight swam, his legs were fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>useless</span>
  </em>
  <span> and he couldn’t hear his own thoughts over the goddamn club music. Klaus choked down a scream of frustration. He flopped around and onto his back.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The man was gone. His heavy steps echoed down the alley. Klaus absently turned to watch his figure fading into the street light, then turned to Five.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Five stood still.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Too still.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Unnervingly still, with his arms wrapped around his stomach and his jaw set.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He turned to Klaus--</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Five's knees hit the ground before Klaus could get to him. Klaus bracketed Five against his chest.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He knew the damage had been done, though. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Something </span>
  </em>
  <span>had been done because Five was already turning pale, blood spilling over his fingers, hot and black in the darkness. His eyes were brimmed with pain, a haziness clouding them over already. Klaus maneuvered Five to lay across his thighs, and with an arm under his shoulders, he cradled his brother close.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Klaus slapped his free hand over both of Five’s. “Holy shit,” tumbled out of Klaus’ mouth before he could catch himself. “Holy shit, holy shit, holy--</span>
  <em>
    <span>Someone!</span>
  </em>
  <span> Some--Hey! </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hey! </span>
  </em>
  <span>Call an ambulance! Call--Jesus </span>
  <em>
    <span>Christ!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Five groaned, weakly reeling away. “Sh-Shut </span>
  <em>
    <span>up</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Klaus...”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But Klaus couldn’t. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>couldn’t.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Because the only thing he could think of was Ben. Ben, who was gone because he had gotten too high to see him. Ben, who was stuck staying around Klaus because he was dead. Ben, who was probably watching this all unfold, watching Klaus fuck up again, get another Hargreeves killed </span>
  <em>
    <span>again.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Klaus choked on tears. “God please don’t die, Five. Just hold on, just...</span>
  <em>
    <span>Hey! Call an ambulance! </span>
  </em>
  <span>Please! Someone! </span>
  <em>
    <span>Please!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Five leaned heavily into Klaus’ chest, his breaths quick and body slowing. He sluggishly pulled at his own hands, trapped beneath Klaus’, but he couldn’t seem to get them free. Five’s eyelashes fluttered faintly; he was barely conscious, </span>
  <em>
    <span>already</span>
  </em>
  <span> falling unconscious and Klaus couldn’t find a single fucking person to help them…</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>How much time had passed? He couldn’t tell. Nothing was making sense. The only semblance of time was looking at how much blood Five had lost, how much had spilled over and smeared over their hands, their clothes.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Klaus let out a guttural scream, one burning his chest, building from fear and frustration. He curled over Five, squeezing him close. Five mumbled a weakened protest.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He went slack a second later, head lolling back against the crook of Klaus’ arm.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Klaus coughed up more tears, more spit. He could barely </span>
  <em>
    <span>breathe</span>
  </em>
  <span> around it, barely think. </span>
  <em>
    <span>God</span>
  </em>
  <span>, because </span>
  <em>
    <span>of course</span>
  </em>
  <span> he was going to bear witness to yet another brother’s death. That was just the thing he needed! More trauma! More pain! More agony to heave up onto his shoulders every morning when he woke. He would see Five standing with Ben, both of them ready to gripe at him, to poke and prod and make fun of him, but the sadness would be there. They were </span>
  <em>
    <span>dead</span>
  </em>
  <span>, after all. And it would be Klaus’ </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking fault.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Five was breathing harder, in short, little pants. His blood had already soaked through Klaus’ jeans, scalding his </span>
  <em>
    <span>stupidly </span>
  </em>
  <span>numb legs. He was completely at the mercy of death, of </span>
  <em>
    <span>Klaus</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and yet, there was nothing he could do for either of them.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As much as Klaus wanted to carry Five to safety, he couldn’t. As much as he wanted to reverse everything, to never have gone out in the first place, he wasn’t able to.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>So Klaus held Five even closer and cried silently, his tears adding to the darkness already staining Five’s uniform.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Uh...</p>
<p>So I <i>was</i> going to post this on Tumblr. My <a href="https://itty-bitty-rampaging-committee.tumblr.com/">Tumblr</a>, woweeo. But, I didn't. Because it got too long.</p>
<p>Oopsies. Now I have, what, four ongoing fics? Ha<i>HA</i> I'm fucked.</p>
<p>It's currently 3:03 in the morning, and I did <i>not</i> check for mistakes. So ignore them, if you would be so kind. :D</p></blockquote></div></div>
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